“That sounds like some juicy gossip. Tell me,” I said with an eager smile, leaning into her, excited to finally get the dirt on my perfect boss. It was impossible to imagine anyone would have anything bad to say about him. He seemed so far above the judgments of a tiny Irish farming village. Full of himself, sure. But you couldn’t really blame him.
“Ummm…let’s see…witness protection program, arms dealer, drug runner, hiding from the cops, Russian Mafia.” She rattled off the rumors floating around about Dayne. Each one was more absurd than the last.
“But he’s Irish?” I said laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. “He couldn’t be Russian Mafia.”
She shrugged, dismissing the obvious inconsistency of her last hypothesis. “I personally think he’s not interested in girls, if you know what I mean.” She waggled her eyebrow and gave me a long, low glare, waiting for me to pick up on her obvious assumption.
“No way.” I refused to even entertain the thought.
“Think about it,” she persisted. “A man that good looking, dressing the way he does, and not interested in a single girl around?” She let her implication hang in the air, leaving me to connect my own dots. Her suggestion was ridiculous. If Dayne wasn’t interested in the girls around town, it was probably because he was used to dating supermodels, not because he didn’t like girls.
He certainly wasn’t anything like the other men in Clonlea. He was too exotic, too good -looking—movie star good looking. He had the same slightly rough and rugged look of my favorite Hollywood heartthrob, who happened to be unattached as well, despite sharing raunchy love scenes with every well-known starlet of the day. His apparent lack of a real sex life was always fodder for the checkout line tabloid gossips. I guess April could be onto something. But I refused to believe a gay man could make my heart beat the way Dayne DeLaney did.
“I thought you said he was a heart breaker?” I offered a rebuttal to her argument.
“He was when he first got here, but not anymore. What better way to cover his tracks than to make every girl in a twenty mile radius fall in love with him?” April was sticking to her guns on this one. Maybe she needed to believe it to salvage her own self-esteem. She certainly hadn’t caught his eye.
There was definitely something different about Dayne. Nothing about him fit into the everyday ordinariness of the town. He was too refined for the townspeople that surrounded him. Sort of like Clonlea itself. Their beauty wasn’t what you expected to find along Ireland’s harsh Atlantic coast.
Still, none of these rumors made any sense to me. I saw him almost every day. There wasn’t anything criminal or homosexual about Dayne.
“How old is he?” All the rumors April had rattled off were clichéd movie roles for old men.
“According to his story, he should be about 20.” In Judge April’s court, Dayne was already guilty.
“And what’s his story,” I emphasized “his” just as she had, hoping she heard how absurd this all sounded.
“He embarrassed his family by failing out of college and they sent him out here to work. Learn to appreciate all that they had given him.” This was the most plausible scenario she had given yet, but I could tell she didn’t want to believe it.
Clonlea was entertaining itself at Dayne’s expense, and he was letting them do it without protest. I knew how he felt. Facing the world alone was never easy. It didn’t matter if you were an insignificant freak like me or someone who seemingly had it all like Dayne.
It made me mad. It made me want to defend him, to protect him. To stand beside him and fight the battle I had been too afraid to fight for myself. It wasn’t easy to be different, but I knew I was still too much of a coward to do anything. After letting my dream slip out to Phin this morning, I wasn’t about to defend Dayne too much.
Besides, I really liked April, and she seemed to like me too. Despite our different opinions about Dayne, it felt really good to have a girl my age to talk to. I hadn’t shared this much conversation with anyone other than my family and horses in years, and it reminded me what it was like to have a friend. So I swallowed my anger. Dayne could take care of himself, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be so quick to defend me.
“Yeah, I guess something is off about him.” I agreed, bringing the camaraderie back to our chat. Letting go of my emotions was like swallowing a wool sweater, but it didn’t seem worth ruining the first chance I’d had to make a friend in years.
She nodded at me knowingly; satisfied she was right about this one. She refilled our teacups and dug through the little bowl of sugar cubes finding one that was just right and dropping it into her cup with a splash.
“Now Lucas…he’s the kind of guy for a summer fling.” She peeked at me over her teacup, waiting to gauge my reaction.
“Lucas?” I said with amazement, sure we couldn’t be talking about the same boy. “He’s like my brother!” Of course, I didn’t have one, but the thought of Lucas as a summer fling wasn’t something I was ready to admit to just yet, either.
“You’ll see.” The corners of April’s mouth turned down, as she tried to hide her smile. She looked me over with an appraising eye. “It’s always the same. He starts off as your best friend, but sooner or later, you’re going to find yourself kissing him.”
“I doubt that.” This newest revelation was even more absurd than Dayne being in the Russian Mafia. I leaned back on my seat, crossing my arms in front of me and shaking my head. Determined I wouldn’t cross any lines with Lucas this summer.
“Oh, don’t take it so seriously. Everybody kisses Lucas. He’s taught half of my friends how to kiss. He’s a nice guy. And a lot of fun too!” Apparently, in Clonlea, kissing Lucas was like having your first pint at the tavern—an Irish rite of passage.
I’d never kissed a boy before, and only imagined kissing Dayne in my dreams. On TV it didn’t look like there was much to it, but obviously there was, since dream-Dayne didn’t seem to respond to my advances. According to April there was lots to learn, and she made it sound as if Lucas could teach a college level course. I had to admit I was curious.
“Have you kissed him?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.
“Lots,” she said with a shrug and casual tilt of her head. “He knows how to show a girl a good time.” She smiled when my jaw dropped open.
I pictured Lucas, curly haired, sweet-faced Lucas, kissing April. Not that it was gross or anything. I was just floored to think that he was such a ladies man. Up until that point, I had thought he was just as shy and awkward as I was.
We collapsed into giggles. I laughed so hard I snorted, which sent us into an even wilder cackle of laughs.
“That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard!” I managed to get out between spasms of laughter.
“What? Kissing Lucas or your snorting?” She was teasing me, but I didn’t care. I liked April. She was fun and easy to be around.
I felt a little spark deep inside my chest. This is what it should be like. What it used to be like, back when I had a best friend. Growing up was hard enough. Without friends to share the ups and downs with it was downright impossible. My handicap had taken my friends from me, and I had let it. But not anymore, I didn’t have to be that person here.
“Well, good afternoon, Mr. Dayne!” Rose called out from the front counter when the doorbell tinkled again. I looked at April and both of our mouths dropped open. We clapped our hands over our lips to stifle the disbelieving giggles of laughter and rose from our seats.
Quietly, not wanting to make a sound, April tiptoed over to the wall that separated the kitchen from the storefront and motioned for me to come. I followed, her partner in crime. We slinked along the length of the wall until we made our way to the little opening. April bent down so I could look too. We peeped around the doorway, April’s head right below mine. Rose was handing Dayne a wrapped loaf of bread. He took it with a nod of thanks and turned to leave.
The bell on the door jingled as he swung the door open to leave.
He stopped. In a motion so quick we did not have time to duck back around the doorway, Dayne turned and his eyes immediately found mine. My breath caught in my chest and the strength drained from my body. Had I involuntarily called out his name? I was paralyzed in place. Not even the guilt and embarrassment of being found could move me from that spot.
There was no expression on his face. I wouldn’t have noticed it if there was. The bakery faded into a blur around me. He was the only thing my eyes brought into focus. The spotlight of his attention shone down on me, washing away my ability to do anything but stare dumbly back at him. He could have asked me to walk through fire at that point, and I would have, gladly. In a single glance I felt like he knew everything about me—all my secrets, all my fears, all my desires.
Did he have this affect on every girl? Was Dayne DeLaney the drug of choice in Clonlea? I couldn’t imagine craving anything more than the feeling his attentions gave me. It was bliss, but it was torture because I knew it wouldn’t last. Shame prickled at the back of my consciousness. Did he know what a coward I was? Did he know I had failed to stand up for him not even 10 minutes ago?
In another quick motion, he was gone. I exhaled, staring at the empty space where he had stood. April starred up at me in wide-eyed wonder. I let out a single, disbelieving breath of a laugh. April answered with the same exact reaction, shaking her head as she processed what had just happened. I didn’t realize how heavily I was leaning on her. When she started to stand, our legs got tangled. We tumbled to the dusty stone floor of the bakery, shocked by what had just happened.
Chapter 8
A New Kind Of Man
A second new friend came into my life that night. When Rose went to make her nightly offering of sweet bread to the fairies she yelped and jump back inside before the plate left her hand.
“Faye! Come quick!” she yelled over her shoulder.
I ran to the door where the cutest little white was dog lying on the doormat. He sat up when he looked at me. I bent down and moved toward him, offering my hand, palm down, to him. He sniffed at it and stood to walk to me, limping for a few steps before he sat back down.
“Oh, Rose, he’s hurt.” I carefully scooped up the little dog and brought him inside. Rose fetched a flashlight so I could get a better look at the paw.
He was a very good patient—studying me with the most unusual golden eyes and licking at my hand when it came near enough. I couldn’t find anything wrong with him. I put him down on the floor and tried to get him to walk. He limped behind me on three paws.
“He can hardly walk.” I said with a frown. “Can he stay here tonight?” Rose was already shaking her head when I turned a pleading look her way.
“Faye, we don’t know anything about this dog. He could be rabid.” We both looked at the little dog. He had curled up in my lap again and was looking between Rose and me with the sweetest, most pitiful look.
“Definitely not rabid, Rose.”
“Oh, fine, but just tonight and you’re sleeping down here. Don’t want any fleas in the bed.” She grumbled off to bed herself.
The little dog in my lap looked like a fancy, designer-bred dog mixed with a tough, street-smart scrapper. His white, wavy coat stuck out in all directions around him. But his golden eyes looked at me with a depth of understanding that seemed almost human— like he knew exactly what I was thinking.
I retrieved a pillow from my room and pulled the handmade quilt from the back of the sofa to make our bed. When he jumped up on the couch without a limp I studied him through narrowed eyes. He answered with a totally unaffected look, snuggled in beside me and plopped his head down on my chest.
“Well, you certainly are friendly. Don’t you have a family who is missing you?” He stared, looking at me as if I were the juiciest bone he had ever seen.
I sniffed at him. “You certainly don’t smell bad for a stray dog. You really don’t even smell at all.” There was no collar and no way to know who he belonged to. I would make some flyers for Rose to take to the bakery with her. If he had an owner, it was bound to turn up.
“Well you have to have a name. How about Ralph?” He stared at me. “Gus?” Nothing. “Lucas?” He let out a bored sigh. “Dayne?” It looked like his puppy eyes perked. No way was I giving him that name. “How about Cotton? That’s a good name for a white dog like you!” He began to lick my face, his tail wagging violently back and forth.
“Okay, okay!” I pulled him away and snuggled beside him on the couch. It had been years since I’d had a dog, I thought as I stroked his silky ears. Rose would never agree to let me keep him, but I was already thinking of ways I could talk her into it as I drifted off to sleep.
April and I struck up quite a friendship over my next few trips to the bakery. We had a lot in common with each other. Just like me, she was eager to begin her adult life away from home. Working with Rose this summer, she would make enough money for an apartment in Shannon where she hoped to start college in the fall. I kept to myself the fact that I had already been accepted to two schools and really only had to decide where I wanted to go.
She was full of questions about all things American, especially anything pertaining to the American celebrities she idolized. On the days I would come to the bakery, we would devour a loaf of bread and a tabloid magazine while the old commercial ovens baked Rose’s Honeyed Sweet Bread into golden loaves.
Never in my life had I known so much about who was dating who and who wore what and who was in rehab and all the other petty silliness that goes on in Hollywood. It became clear to me that this was April’s way to escape. Like Rose had her dreams of a fairytale starring herself, April dreamed of being in the mix of the glitz of Hollywood.
I asked Mom to start sending me the trashy grocery store rags for April and me to study on the afternoons I made it to the bakery. She was thrilled and sent a box every week, so excited to hear that I finally had a real friend again.
All in all, my life was going way too good, and I found myself looking over my shoulder with paranoia, afraid something was coming to steal it all away. But after three weeks on Irish soil, my life was better than it had ever been and so far, nothing had come along to ruin it. I had a best friend. I had a great job. I had Rose and Phin. After my first conversation with April, I thought I might have a boyfriend before the summer was over, too.
I saw Lucas differently after April told me what a ladies’ man he was. If I were the kind of girl who was used to having boys flirt with me, I would easily have seen that his behavior was more than just friendly attention. He dropped whatever he was doing to offer me a leg up when I was leaving the barn and always materialized from out of no where to grab my horse when I returned after a ride. If he saw me struggling to reach a saddle on the top rack, he would easily retrieve it for me without my asking. He always had the next horse I was supposed to ride waiting in the cross ties for me. The only problem was I didn’t have the first clue what to do with his attentions. So I smiled sweetly and thanked him like I would any other boy.
We were riding Penny and Prince one afternoon when a rain shower sprinkled down without warning. He shook the rain droplets from his curls as we took shelter under the canopy of trees. His t-shirt was soaked, and it showed the rounded muscles of his arms and chest. He caught me looking and grinned. It wasn’t a smile I had seen before. It was welcoming and warm and slightly...seductive?
My heart gave one hard beat. I bit my lip as I looked away and kicked Penny forward.
There was a town festival at the end of June. I quickly learned that in the summer, a teenager’s world revolved around these monthly gatherings in Clonlea. They were originally created as a way to boost tourism, but after the first summer they also became the most important social events of teenage life. April and I spent the entire week leading up to it scouring the village shops for the perfect outfits, and Rose closed the bakery early that Friday so we could run to April’s house to get ready.
We giggled and laughed and smoothed our carefully c
hosen outfits into place as we made our way to the village of tents set up along the shoreline. The sun was settling along the ocean’s horizon, casting an orange glow on everything. We could hear the music as we approached, which sped up our pace, fearing we may miss something.
Spinning dancers occupied a make shift dance floor lined with string lights and paper lanterns. The floor was dangerously close to the cliff side, giving the swaying dancers a beautiful view that painted them in bright orange and dark shadow at that hour, illuminated by the sunset’s fading glory. I could only imagine how beautiful it would be to dance on that floor once the moon was high overhead. Secretly, I hoped anyone would ask me to dance.
April grabbed my hand as we pried our way through the crowd gathered in the first tent to admire the sunset and dancers. She had a death grip on my hand, but I never would have been able to push my way through the crowd without her pulling me along.
The festival was divided into three sections. The dancers and band were up front, so the noisy crowd sounds wouldn’t interfere with the music. Next came a food tent were tables overflowed with every kind of fried carnival food one could imagine, all free for the taking, and big wooden beer kegs with taps on the side. In the middle of this tent ran green and white-checkered tables with mason jars of wildflowers blowing in the soft breeze. The last tent was reserved for booths the local vendors set up to attract tourists. Beyond that, untented like the dancers up front, were festival games and pony rides.
“Oh! You’ve got to try this!” April said, shoving something fried in my face as we walked past a table overflowing with treats. “Ooh, ooh and this!” She handed me another fried something and grabbed two plates, filling both of them with food as we went down the line.
April steered me towards a table of girls about our age, who sat studying their nails in boredom and people watching. The bored looks vanished when we appeared, every eye looking me over, obviously knowing I was the new girl in town. My cheeks pinked under their scrutiny, immediately worried they would see right through me.
Heir of Earth (Forgotten Gods) Page 11
